


Seven

by Elysionia



Series: Babel [4]
Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysionia/pseuds/Elysionia
Summary: Seven years for him to prove it. To prove that he, a poor boy from Gaffney can do it.The Hale-Underwood wedding





	Seven

 

 

_drop the stardust from your shoulders_

_stand besides me_

_in the summer rain_

_until the rivers run upstream_

 

_.:.:._

 

3rd of September dawns on them faster than they thought. The ever cooling nights make summer seem like a far away memory tucked somewhere in the back of their heads. Short were the summer nights and short was the journey from one glance to love. She opens her eyes in a foreign room. Flowers on the tapestry coil in the same way as her anxiousness and happiness swirl inside her chest. Warm light showers her as she sits on the neatly made half of the bed in solitude, soaking up the slowly rising sun.

 

It’s a tradition that the groom doesn’t get to see the bride the day before the wedding, so her mother has made her stay the night in a smaller suite in their fancy hotel. Well as fancy as a small town like Gaffney can get. Her mother has arranged everything she could get her greedy little hands on. If she doesn’t get to sell her daughter out for the highest bidder like a broodmare, she is going to make sure to leave her fingerprints everywhere. After all the wedding should reflect the stature of the Hales. For a month she has had to live under her mother’s cold eyes judging and picking her apart. It had reminded Claire of her younger years, struggling to grow under her mother’s iron fist. But Elizabeth Hale is not there to watch her daughter as she sneaks off from her suite like she used to sneak out from her room in the dead of the night.

 

Fresh cool air and morning dew welcomes her outside. She misses Boston already. The colder temperature is suited better for her compared to the burning hotness of the southern summer. The shop’s door clinks as Claire slides in in the early hour of the morning. The shop is a mix of scents varying from different chemicals to the floral scents of the hair products. Dorothea greets her in with a giddy smile motioning for her to sit down on a cozy looking leather chair.

 

‘’You already look like a princess!’’ Dorothea gasps romantically as she throws the white cover over Claire’s shoulders. White fabric falling like a veil over her, covering her twitching hands. Claire ignores Dorothea’s compliments as she scrutinizes her dark under eyes closely through the mirror, exhaling slowly as Dorothea starts to comb her fingers through Claire’s thick golden hair, untangling the mess. Maybe she can do some magic on her face later with the make up.

 

Dorothea starts working on her as she parts her hair lifting up the curtain that now covers her whole back. The heavy shadow she has learned to hide behind. Is this petulant act of rebellion against her mother? Hasn’t she mentally grown at all from those far away days? Maybe it’s her asserting herself. It’s my body, my decision. It’s me. As Dorothea’s fingers run through her now silky smooth hair Claire voices: ‘’I’ve made the decision. I want you to cut it here.’’

 

.:.:.

 

Frank doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous. He keeps walking in circles in the backroom of the church unable to sit down and just wait. Patience has never been one of his strongest suits. He can feel the cold stone wearing out underneath his soles. So many questions are clouding his head, stopping any relevant thought trying to pass through. Will Claire be there? Would she break her promise, abandon him like this, on their wedding day without a word? He hates to be kept in the dark, waiting and useless.

 

She definitely might. Her mother may have talked her over. Twisted Claire’s head in the same way Elizabeth Hale has managed to crawl under his skin on this past few weeks. He can finally understand the pressure of the shadow of Elizabeth hovering over Claire.

 

Sweat is beginning to gather on his brow from his nervous pacing and the still heavy autumn air weighting down on him. How fitting that he is a sinner sweating in a church. How could he have thought that a woman with Claire’s stature would marry a dirt poor farm boy from south with nothing in his name. There certainly isn’t a lack of competition for her hand. She could have chosen anyone. An hour before the wedding he stands there in his perfectly tailored white suit and he feels like a fraud. He’s ashamed of luring Claire into this mess and more afraid that she has come to the same realization of him being a social climber. That he is not worthy of her. He can’t help the devil on his shoulder whispering these thoughts into his ears heightening his sense of uncertainty. Making him ready to run off from the venue.

 

Creaking of the door interrupts Frank’s manic pacing making his heart leap. The door reveals Charles Hale wearing a stylish navy suit and understanding smile on his face. ‘’Don’t worry about Elizabeth she can be a bit prickly when she’s nervous. She’ll be busy soon enough as the guests arrive. She’s a tough woman. You’ll have to give her some time to soften up but she’ll come along.’’ He adds with a chuckle: ‘’Eventually.’’

 

Even though Charles Hale’s aura is warm and welcoming Frank can only get a nervous laugh out of himself. He is a proud and intelligent business man. Frank only has respect for him. Frank’s palms are sweaty as he crosses his fingers together, trying his best to seem calm and collected: ‘’Well I can tell that Claire has taken some after her mother.’’

 

Charles Hale can’t help but smile at the fact. No matter how old Claire is, she will always be his little girl laughing wholeheartedly while riding Red on their back yard. With age she has become more like Elizabeth, and there is more Elizabeth in Claire than Claire would like to admit.

 

‘’Even though Elizabeth’s been hard on her, she loves Claire more than anything. She’s the most precious thing in our entire lives. She just wants what’s best for her. As do I.’’ Charles looks at Frank with understanding smile, trying to ease him down from his worries.

 

‘’Claire is the only family I have besides my mother. And I love her more than my words can express.’’ Frank confesses fiddling with this heavy coppery class ring. He doesn’t want to reveal anything about his bastard of a father. The heavy class ring on his hand continues to remind him of his salvation, the Sentinel. His escape from the hell his mother and him had to live in. Soon the heavy ring will get a brother on his bare ring finger. A reminder of his bright future.

 

Charles Hale has been watching him closely the whole time since he arrived to Gaffney a week ago: ‘’I can see that. And that’s why I’m letting you marry Claire. You would do anything for her.’’ Silence falls over the pair. They both listen to the echoing voices coming from the church.

 

Charles clears his voice attracting Frank’s attention back to him: ‘’I’m willing to support you and your ambitions for congress. Whatever it is that you need, you’ll have it. As long as you make Claire happy.’’  

 

Frank is about to deny his more than generous offering before he continues:

 

‘’Claire’s happiness and wellbeing is the most important thing for me. From now on it’s going to be your top priority too. Don’t let me down son.’’

 

.:.:.

 

There are thousands of butterflies stuck in Francis’ stomach flying in a circle, daring to rise up to his throat. Deep booming of the church bells signal her arrival and when the wooden doors reveal the light of his life, the butterflies are set free. Days of waiting have brought them here. He thought there wouldn’t be a feeling to match it, when he first time laid his eyes on her three years ago in that garden. How could he have been so wrong. Her approaching figure knocks his breath away. He forgets all of the insecurities clawing at him from before, as she walks towards him down the aisle. White light pours inside the church from the open doors making her skin glow, creating a halo over her. His angel.

 

He believed that she couldn’t be anymore radiant but there she stands on red velvet covered by elegant white dress that drapes over the curves of her body in rivers of silk. With her head held high she looks like a Greek goddess, flown to the ground from the Olympus. Her golden hair wrapped up in a simple sleek updo away from her face bares her tall neck and sharp clavicles. Her steps are measured and graceful as she slowly glides towards him accompanied by her father. Both of them look statuesque. Rays of sun through the stained glass windows shower her in a spectrum of colours, breathing life into her.

 

Their eyes lock from afar. The crowd fades away as she slowly makes her way closer to him. As she nears him, he make out little crystals of happiness in the bright blues of her eyes. Their brilliant shine is only competed by the diamonds sparkling on the decollete of her haute couture dress, dripping down her chest like the tears that have fallen down her cheeks or the cold spring rain that washed down on them. When he sees Claire’s eyes beaming with happiness instead of tears, he dares to finally inhale.

 

The velvet carpet leading to Francis feels endless. Even the pipe organ can’t cover her heartbeat pounding in her ears. If she didn’t know any better, she would be sure that the whole affair could see her heart daring to leap out of her chest. Fresh flowers, her favourite, are tightly clutched on her hands, stopping her from fidgeting with her nails. She holds the bouquet tight in her fingers, like her life would depend on the blooms. Green of the leaves stand out against the stark white flowers. Claire can smell the intoxicating scent coming from the flowers.

 

White roses, lilies, tulips and gardenias.

Innocence, magnificence, everlasting love and clarity.  

 

Claire’s sharp heels sink into the plush carpet digging deep as they drift closer to the altar. Silence following her measured footsteps instead of the powerful clicks she’s so used to hearing. She doesn’t even dare to look at her father, standing proud besides her, guiding her forward. Claire hopes mother can’t see her legs shake through the silk drapes of her dress.  As she dares to tear her eyes away from the endless sea of red before her, she is faced with the fiery burn of his brown eyes.

 

He can’t recall anything about the ceremony. Later this all will feel like a dream. They hadn’t written their own vows, for they already made one for each other in whispers while covering their bodies in kisses. There were no rings to bind them, only their hushed words in the setting sun. He can only breathe her in while pretending to listen to the priest. She makes him smile as a sly smirk plays on the corners of her rosy lips. There’s no hesitation on her face, even though from up close he can see her racing heart from the hollow in her neck. And as they vow to be with each other in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, he has drowned in her eyes. Whatever she desires from him next is granted. Blue of her irises hypnotize him lulling him into a deep sense of security. Compared to the bright blues of her eyes the brilliant autumn sky looks like lead.

 

Francis’ hand feels terribly hot in hers as a circle of diamonds is slipped around her ring finger. It’s a perfect fit for her slender hand. As the ring is secured in her finger, Francis squeezes her hand in his to offer her comfort as the priest pronounces them husband and wife. His lips feel like fire against hers as they bodies close together. Their lips tenderly brush against each other in a modest sweet kiss appropriate for the moment. She keeps her eyes closed for a second breathing against his lips before they turn to face the cheering crowd.

 

_Claire Underwood_

 

.:.:.

 

The after party is all sucking up to relatives and trying to exchange pleasantries. Francis feels comfortable in these situations, where he gets to charm his way through the room impressing guests, family and friends with his wit and quick brain. Claire has consciously pulled back from the big crowd as she’s focused on playing the perfect demure bride. A wallflower.

 

After everyone on the venue has fallen in love with Francis, they finally make it back to their own house. Birds are chirping in the nearby trees as the pair takes in the view of their home. The sapling they planted over a year ago has grown so much, showing how much time had passed. Her heels click against the stone as the pair sways together to the soft hums of Francis’ voice. They are going to build a home here for them, together. On the pavement he sweeps her in his arms in a billow of light blue silk. Claire squeaks from the surprise wrapping her hands tightly around Francis. He carries her carefully over the foyer like the tradition. After the initial shock, it makes Claire scoff against his chest. He stops her eye roll by smacking a wet kiss on her cheek.

 

‘’You can let me down already. I think I’m clear to walk on my own now.’’ Claire voices as she lets go of Francis’ neck. He gingerly leans forward to let her down on her feet. As she’s safely back on the floor, they stop to stand still in the silence of their own house. They take in the still bare living room with the limited furniture they have. The house is decorated with neutral colours. It’s white walls are still devoid of any memories.

 

‘’Too clear I say. You should have drank more of that great champagne.’’Frank jokes breaking the silence as he starts to undo the bow on his neck. Claire laughs at the mental image before opening the scene for him: ‘’Imagine mother’s face seeing her darling little girl making a scene in her own wedding. It would be the scandal of the year for her.’’

 

Frank would love nothing more than to see the outraged face of Elizabeth Hale scolding very drunk Claire. ‘’Every family needs that one drunk relative who spices up the utterly boring parties and family fairs.’’

 

‘’You know she’s already based a bet on when we will divorce.’’ Claire’s voice has taken a more serious tone as she frees her aching feet from the silvery high heels.

 

‘’I hope she’s ready to be disappointed. She’ll see that I’m never going to let you go.’’ He closes his arms on her embracing her as she rests her head on his strong shoulder. His words sound as scary as they did years ago.

 

Slowly they move to their bedroom in the back of the house. Jewels are placed in a leather box on her dresser as she removes the heavy diamonds from her ears. He drapes his suit carefully on a hanger and lays down on the edge of their mattress on the floor. Light panels are lined up straight across the ceiling. Frank turns his eyes away from the panels as she slowly drops the simple yet classic reception dress from her shoulders revealing white lace underneath. His mouth goes dry the second time today from the sight of her. It hypocritical. How she can look so innocent and yet so seductive in her white underthings.

 

He sits up to the edge of the mattress motioning for her to move closer to him. Their eyes lock as he slowly kisses down her chest. His lips travel over the hardening nubs of her breasts. The lacy dream snaps open from his fingers, baring her breasts to his hungry mouth. Leaving her to shiver in her white lace panties and a garter belt. Moan escapes her rosy lips from the pleasure as his mouth coaxes more small gasps of air out of her.

 

When Francis moves to caress her nipples with his nimble fingers, she’s free to lift her hands up to her hair. She carelessly pulls couple of pins out of her hair. Finally her hands find the rigged edge of the jeweled comb from the back of her hair. She pulls it up and out, blonde silk sliding through the teeth of the comb, letting her hair down. Instead of a blonde mane falling down her back like a waterfall, her blonde hair swishes on her shoulders. Her breasts left bare without the hair hiding her body from his hungry gaze.

 

‘’You cut it.’’ His statement cracks the silence. His rough fingers caress the blunt edges of her freshly cut hair barely touching her shoulders. Intrigued by the change in her. He can’t help but be surprised by the fact, that he had been so focused on her perfect face and body that he hadn’t even noticed her missing bun of hair.

 

Her face looks sharper than before. Her jawline ready to cut iron. His fingers move to her jaw as he traces the shape of her face. Her striking features could be sculpted from marble by one of the masters. Her icy eyes follow the movement in his as he continues to caress her face in his hands while he takes her in. Claire nibbles nervously on her lower lips waiting for his judgement of her reckless behaviour. Instead of harsh words, she’s faced with his smouldering kiss against her pale lips.

 

‘’You are perfect.’’

 

He whispers against the side of her mouth before wrapping his hands tightly around her. She follows his strong arms leading her on their bed. Even though she’s perfect, he embraces her like she would be broken. As she breathes to the crook of his neck, he almost squeezes the life out of her like trying to desperately mold their bodies together. Love for him overflows her heart. They make love through the night on their mattress on the floor. His rough fingers dig into her now short hair. Unable to find any purchase from the slippery silk.  

 

.:.:.

 

The sun is ready to greet them when they stumble on to their patio to smoke. Claire shivers from the chilly morning air, wrapped only in her light cashmere robe. Cold creeps up from her bare feet making her wrap her arms tightly around her middle to look for warmth. Silver lighter snaps to life and with its flame Frank lights up a cigarette for them to share. With every inhale fire consumes the cigarette turning the rest into ashes. After moments of silence, it’s all gone. Claire stumps the cigarette on the ornate glass before leaning on his shoulder.

 

She admires the view with her head resting against his shoulder. Beautiful soft pinks and oranges rise to the sky with the sun colouring the clouds in their soft hue. Her thoughts are running slow from the fatigue. She’s content to be right here by his side. Sleep and cold is sneaking up her bones making her eyes close involuntarily. Her eyes have closed a dozen times before shivering Claire picks herself up and squeezes his now warm shoulder tightly, before sliding inside from the double doors leaving Frank outside alone in the crisp morning air.

 

His thoughts run more clear without the warmth of Claire by his side. Yesterday had been all smiles, kisses and rainbows. His mind has stilled from the turmoil and emotion of yesterday as the anxiety of the morning had changed into teeth rotting happiness. With a long exhale he pushes everything away. All of his senses focused solely on the nature surrounding their house. On the scent of the dew gathering on the strands of grass growing on their yard. He can hear the songbirds somewhere in the tall old trees surrounding their estate. As he raises his eyes from the grass he can see the birds take off far away. They spread their wings and leave their trees rising up to the blue sky because it is in their nature to fly.

 

Autumn winds have always brought the change with them. This is the official start of their first seven years together. Their deal has now begun. He can almost see the congress shining in the distant horizon if he looks far enough. Why seven years, he can’t help but wonder. He has had a year to find out the answer to her riddle. For there are seven treacherous paths to heaven. Seven long halls in the underworld. Seven deadly sins they both have committed and are guilty of. No, that’s not it. Heaven or hell it’s all the same with her.

 

Seven years for him to prove it. To prove that he, a poor boy from Gaffney can do it. To get into the Congress. Under three years to establish himself in a new light and get everyone to fall in love with him. Claire is a vital part of the plan. Together they’ll represent the American dream. Visions of them ruling the free world run through his brain. One nation, one leader: Underwood. He has placed all of his faith in the future, in them. They are each other’s adulthood, future and absolution. They are each other’s sorrow, happiness and redemption.

 

They will be made out of each others memories.

 

Dibbing of the mattress wakes her up from the web of dreams as Francis slowly slides back under the covers. He stays on his side of the mattress letting her alone. In the dark he hadn’t noticed her wide open eyes. For minutes she listens to his irregular breaths steadying and finally calming down. As she waits for the sleep to come, her thoughts drift to the impossible red wine stain on her reception dress. Sun is shining on the sky when sleep is about to claim her. She closes her eyes besides Francis, not being able to feel the weight of his ring around her finger anymore.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really satisfied with this but there you go. If you haven't checked out the one-shot about Claire's summer before the wedding, go and check it out from the Babel.


End file.
